


Words Piled Like Stones

by Freedoms_Champion



Series: Burglar Lessons [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarves Only Love Once, Good Uncle Thorin, Love Confessions, M/M, Mahal the Maker, Not Canon Compliant, Protective Thorin, Thorin has nothing to do but sit in prison and wait, Thorin learns to take advice, Thorin-centric, and worry about every single thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedoms_Champion/pseuds/Freedoms_Champion
Summary: As the Company journeys across Mirkwood and down to the Long Lake, Thorin feels the truth weighing on him. He must tell Bilbo the truth, but too many things keep happening.As his old nature chips away, Thorin finally sees that he was perilously close to becoming Thror.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: Burglar Lessons [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924351
Comments: 3
Kudos: 80





	Words Piled Like Stones

Thorin had to be satisfied that Bilbo had enough training to survive, but it didn’t stop him from worrying. He carried the fear with him from the moment the Company left Beorn’s house, heading for the Mirkwood as quickly as their borrowed ponies would carry them. It doubled when Gandalf left them at the edge of the wood, for the wizard had been capable in defending them so far. As the gloomy days passed, the words Thorin couldn’t speak seemed to pile inside him like stones until they threatened to spill at any moment.

The spider poison made it hard for him to fear, but Thorin didn’t breathe easily until Bilbo appeared at the door of his cell in the Elf-King’s dungeon. Not that it was much consolation, since Bilbo was as much a prisoner as the rest of them until he could find a way out.

Thorin sat in his cell and worried for Bilbo, for Fili and Kili, and for the rest of the Company. Much as he wanted to reclaim Erebor, he bitterly regretted dragging all of them into this journey. Locked away without much hope of escape, it became clear to Thorin that his Quest was more madness than anything else.

“Thorin! Come on. I have a plan,” Bilbo whispered at the door, unlocking it with a key from a massive ring of the things. Thorin grinned at him and stepped out. His questions could wait until the Company was reunited.

Overcome with relief, he hugged Fili and Kili when they stepped out of their own cells. It wasn’t like him, but that didn’t matter. Both boys looked at him with sparks of worry, then fell in behind him as Bilbo led them deeper into the dungeon.

Maybe the barrels wouldn’t have been Thorin’s first idea of a good escape, but he couldn’t help exalting in his heart at Bilbo’s cleverness. In the heat of escape, it didn’t seem so impossible that Thorin could tell him the truth, that Bilbo could stay at his side and use his cleverness in the Mountain rather than taking a perilous journey all the way back to the Shire.

Icy water, fear of the monstrous enemies chasing after them, and worry for Kili quickly dashed Thorin’s high spirits. By the time they landed at the Long Lake, he privately wondered how anything had seemed possible. Kili was hurt, the Company was soaked in icy water as autumn quickly turned to winter, and they still had no plan to destroy Smaug. Their supplies were gone, and they had no means of getting more. Azog’s minions would find them again soon and Thranduil’s subjects were unlikely to forgive them for escaping.

“Fili, do everything you can for your brother,” he instructed, a little redundantly. Fili looked like he would rebel if Thorin told him to do anything else. He caught an unexpected look of relief on his nephew’s face, though, and wondered if Fili had been anticipating a different order.

He’d consider that later, when they were all in less danger of freezing to death.

Later, Thorin would consider Bard a gift from the Maker, but when he arrived, Thorin only viewed him with suspicion. None of the Men he had dealt with had been inclined to work for nothing, which was just about what the Company had to offer Bard. He accepted it anyway and brought them into his own home and Thorin had to put his best foot forward.

“I can’t ask you for more than this,” he said to Bard once the Company had donned dry clothes. “We’ll make our own way, somehow.”

“You won’t get close to the Mountain with what you have now,” Bard replied. He sat at his table, a courtesy Thorin had to admire. Too few Men appreciated the fact that they towered over every race but the Elves.

“We have to try. It would be wrong of us to put you in more danger than we already have. So, thank you for your help. We’ll be going as soon as we can.”

“I have no love for the Master of Laketown, but if you confronted him in front of the people, he would have to help you,” Bard said. There was something familiar about him that Thorin couldn’t place. “Especially if you offered to share what you claimed with our people.”

It was on the tip of Thorin’s tongue to snap that he had no intention of bartering his people’s treasures away in return for trifles, but Bilbo let out an almighty sneeze.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Dreadfully sorry. Ah, I don’t seem to have a handkerchief…”

Just from the sound of his voice, Thorin could tell he was sick. A cold, from the sound of it, but another worry when he was about to be crushed under the weight of what he was carrying. One of Bard’s daughters offered a handkerchief and Bilbo accepted it with a thankful smile.

For him and for Kili, who was looking worse despite the care they had been able to give him, Thorin swallowed his pride. It wasn’t easy, but he’d been working at it for decades.

“Your counsel is wise, Bard,” he admitted. Turning to the Company, he addressed them. “My friends, I have asked so much of you. Much as it pains me, I must ask more. Will you stand beside me to meet this Master?”

They answered him in a deep rumble of voices, dark eyes flashing with pride that had been battered and denied but never broken. Bilbo’s gentle tenor piped up a moment late, adding his agreement to the others without complaint.

The Master was as bad as any human Thorin had ever met, but the goodwill of his people would be enough to hold him to his word. At least, until that goodwill vanished. Thorin knew that Men would turn against him if they felt justified and he was increasingly afraid that his journey would end in disaster. Smaug would show no more mercy to Laketown than he had to Erebor if he thought the Men had helped the Company.

Still, they were given a house and a promise of supplies to take up the Mountain and Thorin had to be content with that. His ongoing concerns would wait a day or two while he made sure his people were fit for another grueling trek.

“How are you feeling?” Thorin asked Bilbo, finding the hobbit wrapped in a blanket and staring out a window.

“It’s just a cold,” Bilbo replied airily. He tried to look unconcerned, but Thorin could see him shivering. “There’s nothing much to do but wait it out. I’m more worried about Kili.”

“We all are,” Thorin said. He settled carefully beside Bilbo and put an arm around his shoulders. Bilbo hesitantly leaned against him, then abruptly relaxed. Like most people, the high body temperature of a Dwarf had taken him by surprise.

“If we make it to the secret door by Durin’s Day and find the keyhole, you’ll be facing Smaug,” Thorin said quietly.

“Yes, well, that is what you hired me for. I’ll do everything I can, Thorin. You don’t have to worry about my courage failing me.”

“That’s not my concern.” Strangely, he hadn’t realized it was true until he said it. Somewhere after the Misty Mountains, Thorin had learned he could rely on Bilbo’s courage as much as any of the dwarves he’d known most of his life. It had been as simple as knowing how to breathe, never firmly in mind until he had to think about it.

“No, there is something I must say,” Thorin continued, dragging his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Much about my people is unknown to other races, so I hope you will forgive me a bit of history.”

Bilbo wiggled into a more comfortable position and shot Thorin a smile. “I adore history. Please, go on.”

“Well, dwarves were made to be the students of Mahal. He dearly loved to create, to shape metal and stone to his will, and He shaped dwarves to love His teachings. We were made unyielding, proud and fierce. So many of my people have only love in their hearts for metal and stone. That is why we grow so slowly in the world. Dwarf-men rarely marry and then, only once. We guard our women as fiercely as we know how, for there are few of them. Even then, some of them never find a love of their own.”

Thorin paused to sigh. It was not his place to question Mahal, but he wondered why dwarves had been made so unwilling to change from their ways. It would have made his life easier if he could set aside the allure of Erebor and the love of gold.

“When a dwarf does find love, he holds it with all his might. I thought, all my life, that my love was meant for my people. I could live well if I could ensure they lived prosperous, safe lives. I was wrong. I knew it when I saw you learning to fight at Beorn’s house and every part of me desired to keep you to myself. I’m sorry if you are offended, Bilbo, but I must speak the truth.”

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle sounds of chill water under the house.

“Thorin, I’m honored,” Bilbo finally said. “I know little of your people except that they guard their culture jealously. To tell me something like that… I can’t imagine the trust it would require. Only, I cannot be worthy of your love. I’m a simple Hobbit, nothing more.”

That wasn’t exactly the answer Thorin had expected. He puzzled over it while silence fell between them again. It didn’t sound like a complete rejection, but he was unfamiliar with Hobbit ways. Bilbo certainly held to a strict idea of manners; perhaps this was his gentle way of hinting he couldn’t be what Thorin wanted.

“A simple Hobbit appears to be Mahal’s will for me,” he said after a moment. “But I won’t keep you from the Shire. I know it is where you belong.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo said, unhappiness in his voice, but Thorin gently eased away from him and left to check on Kili.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If Thorin hadn't been so proud, things would have gone a lot easier for him...
> 
> Comments are welcome and have a great day!


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